Like Fate
by beakanoma
Summary: Like fate, Seth always comes back to Ryan. SLASH, SethRyan, because it's practically canon anyway. Also, ADULT CONTENT, though only a little and toward the end.


Title: Like Fate  
Author: kevo  
\Pairing: Seth/Ryan  
Rating: NC-17  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't remind me.  
Summary: Seth always comes back to Ryan.  
Author's Note: aw, this was my first ever NC-17 pr0n fic! very proud of this. as ever, read and review.

Like fate, Seth always comes back to me.

I'm sitting at my desk, reading my Western Civ textbook, when my cell phone rings. I check the caller ID and my eyes bug out seeing a name that hasn't been there in a long time.

"Hello?" I answer cautiously, trying not to remember when seeing his name would hail a much more cheerful reaction.

"Hey!" His reply is cheerful, a lot more so than the last time I talked to him. "I just wanted to check in, see how you've been doing." Because that isn't ludicrous or anything, even before I confessed my hideously inappropriate Big Gay Love for him.

"I'm fine," I say tersely. Then, remembering my manners, I ask, "How are you?"

"I'm good," he says. "I'm loving the Big Apple-"

"Seth, don't say 'Big Apple'," slips automatically from between my lips.

"I know, I sound like such a tourist," he laughs.

"You'll get there eventually," I tell him. I smile, because as hard as I tried to resist it, I can't help enjoying the familiarity of our conversation.

"Anyway, it's cool here," he continues. "Literally. It's, like, getting cold. I don't know if I'm properly equipped survive an East Coast winter. Did you know that it actually snows here, Ryan? Tiny little flakes of frozen rain just fall from the sky."

"I've read about it, hard to believe the stories are true," I quip.

"Listen to you," he says, "making jokes. Figures, I move nearly two thousand miles away and you finally grow a sense of humor."

"What's college life like, other than slowly becoming a frozen wasteland?" I ask, idly sketching nothings on a sheet of paper with a Bic pen. The ink doesn't come out at first, so I scratch harder.

"Not much to complain about," Seth tells me. "Classes are a breeze, except I have an eight AM class, which is lame but whatever. My roommate is pretty cool, although," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "between you and me, I'm pretty sure he's a stoner."

"Is that right?" I reply, crossing out the 's' I hadn't realized I'd been drawing.

"Yeah, crazy," he says. "I miss you."

Just like that, all of a sudden, and all in a rush. I almost drop the phone, it's so unexpected. A burst of emotion explodes in my chest, joy mostly, with a few faint glimmers of hope. After the shock passes I can feel the underlying anger that's screaming at me to say if he missed me, maybe he shouldn't have avoided me the whole month before he left.

"I miss you too," I tell him, biting down on my harsher impulses.

The phone goes silent. I check the screen to make sure he hasn't hung up. Nope, just really quiet. Elaborate fantasies about what's going on at the other end of this rapidly becoming awkward conversation. Could he be doing homework, stuck on a particularly hard word problem? Is he smiling, glad that I miss him too? Is he getting his dick sucked by some busy coed, holding back a laugh at the fag who's still carrying a torch for him?

Okay, that last one is pretty unlikely, but I'm kind of fucked up.

I kind of blame him.

"We should hang out," he says finally.

"Uh, need I remind you of the half a dozen states or so that lie between California and New York?" I shoot back.

"I'm actually headed back west in a few weeks," he explains. "I have Columbus Day off, so I'm coming home for the three day weekend. I was gonna hold off till at least Thanksgiving, but, and I can't believe I'm about to say it, but I miss Newport Beach. So, whaddaya think?"

"I think it sounds great," I answer honestly, "except I don't have Columbus Day off."

"You're not far from Newport," he says slowly. "Maybe I could come to you."

"Maybe," I tell him, for lack of a better response. My knee is bouncing, and I wonder how long it's been doing that without me noticing.

"Listen, I should probably go," he says.

"Right," I murmur. God forbid the conversation should last more than a few minutes. Might get too intense.

"I'll call again," he says. "Soon. I promise."

"Well, I'll talk to you soon then," I reply. I wait for him to say something else but it doesn't come.

I kick myself for being disappointed when he doesn't call the next day. Or the day after that. Or the week after, for that matter.

I don't hear from him again until he's home, about two and a half weeks later. Not that I was counting or anything, I'm just good with dates like that. My phone beeps in the middle of class and I glance around to make sure no one heard it before pulling it out of my pocket. It's a text message.

From Seth Cell.

"Im home. When do u want 2 hang?"

I snap the phone shut, angrily but quiet. He had some gall, sending me a text like that after leaving me hanging for so long. I'm not bitter, I just think the polite thing to do would at least be to call after no word for so long. No sooner had the thought entered my head than my phone started ringing.

"Take it outside," my professor says dryly before continuing with his lecture. I strode quickly out the door and flipped open my phone.

"Yeah, what is it?" I ask impatiently.

"Sorry, am I bothering you?" he says nervously.

"I was in the middle of class," I tell him, a bit harsher than I intended.

"Oh my gosh," he whines. "I'm so sorry! I just wasn't sure if you got my text message, cuz it didn't do that thing where there's a check on the little envelope, and then I thought I should make sure I get in touch with you so we can make plans before you get all booked up or whatever and I'm so, so sorry for calling in the middle of you class like that—"

"Seth!" I shout into the phone, turning the heads of a several passers-by. "Chill. It's not such a big deal. What do you need?"

"To see you!" he replies enthusiastically. "When are we gonna hang out?"

"I dunno, Seth," I say, fingers drumming at my side. "I don't think I'll be able to get home this weekend."

"Dude, I told you, I can come up there," he says. "I checked with the 'rent, they're totally fine with me borrowing the car. I can, uh, even stay over. If that's all right with you. And your roommate. Who I'm looking forward to meeting."

Like I already said yes. Not that it bothers me. Just the idea of him staying over is what bothers me. In a good way, though, sending my blood rushing to all the right places.

"How about you just come up and we take it from there?" I suggest.

"Awesome," he replies. "Is seven o'clock okay?"

I tell him it is, and we say goodbye. There's only a few minutes left of class, so I wait until it's over before going in for my stuff. I apologize to the professor on my way out. He smiles kindly and tells me to make sure it doesn't happen again.

I try and get some work done but find that I can't keep my mind from buzzing. So I start getting ready, pretending I'm not doing anything special for him. I really needed a shower, you know? And I do like my hair to look a very specific way, no matter how long it takes. The cologne? Hey, I have to smell myself too, don't I? And as for the shirt, the one that clearly outlines my physique and pants he specifically told me he liked that one time? Well, some things can't be explained away as easily as others.

I wait downstairs for him. It would be rude for me not to be there when he arrived. I don't pace back and forth outside the entrance, though. Just like I don't constantly check the clock on my cell phone, or watch for his car to pull into the parking lot. That would be really pathetic, and so completely unlike me. When I realize how pitiful I look, I sit down, fold my arms, and wait. I still can't help fidgeting slightly, drumming my fingers and bouncing my knee again. I'm really not like this. I'll admit, I can be twitchy sometimes, but not this bad. Nothing makes my skin feel this tight.

Except him.

He shows up on time, though it feels like he's late. Probably because I started waiting at six-thirty. He's grinning when he gets out of the car, and waves as he sees me.

"Hi," he says as he approaches.

I stand to greet him and we stumble a moment, neither of us able to decide if we should hug, shake hands, or simply nod. We finally settle into one of those manly one-armed handshake hugs. Perhaps lingering a bit too long. The thought appears fully formed in my head before I can kill it. Just like the urges that hit me when I remember how good he feels, and smells. It's too much for me, and I pull away. He looks down awkwardly.

"So, take me up to your room," he demands. "I wanna meet your roommate."

"He actually went home for the weekend," I say as we climb the stairs to my floor.

"Shit, I really wanted to meet him. And also, explain to me why we couldn't take the elevator?" Seth grumbles.

"We don't have an elevator," I tell him.

He stops on the landing behind me. "You're joking, right? I would request immediate room reassignment to somewhere with much less stair-climbing."

"There's only five floors in the entire building," I reply, leading him down the hall to my room. "It's not exactly Everest."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he murmurs. "We're not all built for climbing, Kid Chino." I laugh and let us into my room.

"So this is it," I tell him, gesturing about my tiny dorm room. "Bed, bed, desk, desk, dresser, dresser, closet, sink, fridge."

"Everything a young college stud like you could need," he counters. I ignore the comment, and the flame of desire that shoots up in my stomach. Instead I sit on my bed, and Seth sits on my roommate's.

"How was your flight?" I ask.

"Not bad," he answers. "Still not a big fan of flying. I much prefer the sea. It would be kind of difficult to sail from New York to Newport though. I guess I could cut the time down a bit by cutting through the Panama Canal, but it would still be pretty long. I definitely wouldn't have been able to get here and back by the end of the weekend, that's for sure. Then I would have missed a bunch of class, and fallen totally behind and then where would I be?"

"You lost me at the Panama Canal," I say, squinting uncertainly at him.

"Sorry," he grins. "You know I ramble when I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?" I ask cautiously. "Is everything all right."

"No," he says flatly. Then he laughs, which turns into a fit of giggles that makes me kind of nervous, to be honest. "No, no, I'm not all right."

I lean back on my elbows and raise my eyebrows. "So tell me about it."

He hunches over, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at his hands. "I'm really fucked up, Ry. Ever since..."

"I confessed?"

"Yeah. I mean, no." He glances up at me. "Before that. Since we met. I think. Maybe even before that too." Seth bolted up and started pacing. "I've always felt... I've never been able to..."

"Seth, you're freaking out," I say gently.

"Well, I'm a freak!" he cries, coming to a dramatic stop. "I've always been a freak! I didn't play well with others, I would rather read a comic than play sports. Everyone who's ever met me thinks that I'm ..."

"Like me?" I offer.

"My parents had it hard enough," he says softly. "I just wanted to be normal for them. After everything I've put them through—"

"Seth, you were never—" I start, but he raises his voice.

"The last thing they needed was to find out I'm gay," he concluded. It feels like I've been slapped, and I physically jerk as though I have been. Seth turns pale, then starts laughing maniacally again. "I said it. It's out there."

"Yeah, it is," I reply. I can't help myself, and ask, "What about Summer?"

"What about Marissa?" he counters. "Denial can make a man do crazy things. But when you were able to work up the courage to tell me how you really feel, I realized how stupid I was being." Seth plops back down on my roommate's bed and sighs deeply. "So," he says. "Now what?"

"I dunno," I answer honestly. "We could, uh, go out to eat, or see a movie or something. There's a frat party going on, but I don't really think that's our kind of—what?" He's smirking at me.

"You're such an idiot," he tells me.

Then he leans across the short distance between us and kisses me, deeply. His hands are cupping my face, preventing me from jerking back in surprise. He pulls back eventually, seeing as human beings need oxygen, and I take the opportunity to pull back a safe distance.

"Whoa, whoa," I say. "Are you sure about this?"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he murmurs as he crawls into my lap. "I've wanted to do this ever since you walked into our kitchen."

"Is that why you made all those sex noises during our first game?"

"Like you didn't enjoy video game foreplay," he smiles.

He kisses me. Once, twice. More, more. I lose count because I'm suddenly very aware that he's pushing me backwards, laying his body over mine. His hands remain static, holding my face, while mine cannot keep still. They've been itching to hold him for so long, I don't have the heart to deny them. They move unbidden all over his body. First they're in his hair, then they move lower to feel his ass for the first time. He groans in protest when I movie them again to roam about under his shirt. His skin is smooth, probably the smoothest thing I've ever felt in my life. For a second I worry that I may never be able to stop touching it, touching him. I start tugging at the shirt. It's the one that says "Have You Hugged My Shirt Today?" I hugged the shirt, now I wanted what was underneath. I had thought that so many times when I saw him in it, now here it was, within my grasp.

He smirks when he feels me pulling and sits up so I can yank it over his head. He leans forward and, rather than kissing me again, undoes the top button of my shirt, pressing his lips to the flesh he's just exposed. Four more times he does this until my shirt is completely open and his face is agonizingly close to the tent in my jeans. He runs his hands across my chest as he rises back up to meet me, to kiss me. His bare chest slides against my own, warm skin on warm skin. I force him over so I'm on top. Seth submits easily, wrapping his legs around me. I grind myself into him and he gasps, so I keep up a steady rhythm of it.

"God, Ry," he moans. "You keep this up and I'm gonna cum in my pants."

"Is that what you want?" I whisper before taking his earlobe between my teeth.

"No, I, yeah, just like that," he whimpers. Then he pulls back and looks into my eyes. "I need to see you. All of you." His hands are scrambling to undo my belt buckle. I snicker, then push his hands away.

"I'll do mine if you do yours," I suggest.

"Deal!" he agrees quickly.

He yanks off his pants in one quick motion and I try not to laugh at his eagerness. I pull down my zipper, then slowly lower my jeans, revealing the obvious bulge in my shorts.

"Boxers on three?" he asks, eyes locked on mine. I nod.

"One," we count together, "two, three."

In the same amount of time it took us to count off, we both shed our last piece of clothing. My first look at his cock and it's a fraction of an inch from mine, so close that I can feel the heat pulsing from it.

"You're gorgeous," I breathe huskily.

"I'm not as big as you," he replies shyly.

"Size isn't everything," I inform him. I press my hardness against his, rubbing them together slowly. "Does it feel like size matters to you?"

"God no," he pants. "Harder." I'm nothing if not willing to please. "Fuck me," he gasps suddenly. I roll off him quickly, because I know that if I keep it up after a declaration like that I'll come in about two seconds. I'm surprised I hadn't already.

"Are you—"

"Ask me if I'm sure and I won't go through with it," he says. He wraps his long, thin fingers around my dick, causing a few drops of pre-cum to trickle out. "I want this inside me, Ryan. I need it."

"Okay," I answer finally. "I don't have any condoms though." He grins, and pulls one out of his discarded pants. "You planned this?" I ask incredulously.

"Are you actually surprised?" he replies.

"Not in the least," I say as he rolls the condom onto me. "So, how do you want to do this?"

He flops on his back and puts his arms behind his heads, grinning. "I wanna see you," he explains.

"Works for me," I say. "Do you need me to, ah, prepare you or anything?"

"I'm prepared," he tells me. "I really did plan this out."

"Definitely thankful for your meticulous planning," I say, sliding between his legs. I lean forward and kiss him as I insert the head. "Are you okay?"

"Are you even doing anything?" he scoffs.

"Oh yeah?" I reply. I thrust forward quickly and I'm inside him. He shouts and I immediately pull out. "I'm so sorry!"

"For what?" he moans. "That was fantastic. Don't stop."

I try again. This time I take a moment to relish how fucking hot he is. Not just the inside part that's pressing on my cock like a vise. Everything. His face, his scent, his strangely sexy whine that spikes every time I'm all the way inside him. I grab his hard-on and start stroking it in time with my thrusts. I can tell from the sounds he's making that he's close, so I pick up the pace a bit.

"Do you want me to slow down?" I ask.

He shakes his head fiercely, eyes shut tight. "Keep going," he tells me. "Keep going! I'm gonna, guh—"

He shoots so hard that it hits us both in the face. I would have laughed if I didn't find it so hot. I come with a final jab inside him. I close my eyes and plant my lips on his.

"I love you," I whisper softly. "I always will."

My eyes snap open when I realize I just said that out loud. I glance around to see if anyone noticed but, thankfully, they didn't. They were all busy packing up their stuff. Was it time to go already? I glance up at the clock and realize I've been zoning out for twenty minutes.

I'm sitting at my desk, staring down at my Western Civ textbook. There's a damp spot of pre-cum staining my boxers, all I have to show for today's class period.

Like fate, Seth always comes back to me. Like an addiction. Like a filthy habit that, try as I might, I just can't kick.

Later that night I delete his name from my cell phone.

"I love you," I whisper softly. "I always will."

-end-

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